


Ever Since the Trial

by Trashball



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Face Slapping, Gags, Hinata's a fucking slut, Light BDSM, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rope Bondage, Spit As Lube, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:17:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashball/pseuds/Trashball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And shit, that was the elephant in the room: Komaeda had tried to kill someone, and I wanted to fuck him for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I told myself, with a renewed resolve, that I wouldn't think about it ever again; that I wouldn't fantasise about fucking Komaeda Nagito.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, literally a week ago: i will never not ever write porn ever ever again  
> me now: sup mother fuckers
> 
> but yeah i was feeling crappy earlier and i started writing this to cool my beans. enjoy???

"So thank you! I'll leave the rest to you."

"Wait, Koi-"

Nope, it was fruitless: already, she was gone, having dashed away in a hurry - and, more importantly, having left me with this tray of food for _him_. And in all honesty? Right now I was trying to push him out of my mind; I was desperately trying to think about anything and anyone _other_ than Komaeda Nagito. So no, I didn't want to deliver the tray to him, because facing him would be a worse case scenario.

On the contrary? I wanted to go hide in my cottage away from him and away from everyone else right now.  _But_ , it's likely that if I did that, no one else would bother to feed him. Everyone else probably hated him - no, they probably  _despised_ him, because hate in itself wasn't a strong enough word to embody exactly  _what_ everybody else probably felt towards Komaeda, not after all of that. The fact of the matter was, everyone else on this island resented him - and rightfully so, of course. After all _he_  was the one that broke the taboo; _he_ was the one that tried to kill someone; and _he_ was the one simultaneously spurred _someone else_ into killing someone. Of course you'd hate someone after that, and of course you'd tie them up and keep an eye on them - because that was the only sane thing to do, the only logical reaction. There's no way you'd like them, at least; there's no way you'd get all buddy-buddy with them, and make friendship bracelets. 

_And yet..._

I could not stop thinking about him. I couldn't get him out of my head. And no - it wasn't in a hateful way, not at all. Whilst yes: part of me did hate him for what he did to my friends, and what he did to us, and everything else that he did (the smiles and the superficial persona he'd adopted when we first met, to name one more thing) but no. On a whole I didn't  _hate_ him - or at least that's not why he was on my mind. There was something else; something I didn't want to admit. Every time I thought about him, all I could think about were those swirling eyes. Light and darkness had swirled together, a twisted whirl of emotion, that had captured my attention, that had tightened its grip on my lungs, squeezing me tight until I was breathless and unable to breathe, let alone think, and-

My hands were shaking; the tray was rattling. _Shit_ , _Hajime_ \- snap out of it, for crying out loud! Even though no one was even here (and, had they been, they wouldn't have even  _known_ what sick, perverse thoughts were racing through my mind) I felt my face grow red-hot with embarrassment, my palms beginning to sweat beneath the plastic tray.

Although? There was a possibility that that wasn't because I was embarrassed. It was highly likely my body was simply reacting to what I was thinking about, and what I was thinking about was Komaeda Nagito, and how fucking terrified I was of him: how the air had left my lungs with sheer horror when he'd started laughing back in the trial room; how my body had went stiff and cold when he admitted to trying to fucking  _kill_ someone. Shit, even thinking about it now ran shivers down my spine. However, as orthodox as my fear of him may sound... There was another element to it. Because that terror had ignited something else. Quickly after he had rendered me cold and stiff back in the trial room, my body had began to heat up again; my blood had began to pound; my mouth had began to water. And holy shit, I had been so scared of him in that very moment - so scared, and so confused, but worst of all, I had been so horrifically  _turned on._

And shit, that was the elephant in the room: Komaeda had tried to kill someone, and I wanted to fuck him for it.

_Get a fucking grip, Hajime._

Sure: during the trial whilst I was internally dying, outwardly I had managed to hold my own. Nobody realised what was going through my mind, despite how much I had began to stutter and stumble and butcher my arguments. At least, I sure as hell hope they didn't. However... Holding it in like that? When the trial was finally over, and when I was finally in my cottage, I had _exploded_. Because Christ -  _Jesus fucking Christ -_ I had been so attracted towards him. Vividly I can remember how I had managed to get off just by touching myself to the thought of him, how I had to muffle my own cries that  _screamed his name_ , because I was absolutely intoxicated, drunk just imagining his lips on mine, his teeth sinking into my skin, leaving hot, wet marks that branded me and-  
  
I was breathless again; I was getting hard again. This was ridiculous. It had been  _two days_ for God's sake, and I had to literally go  _face him right now_ , and I couldn't _possibly_ do that if I kept thinking about how much I wanted to fucking bone him. I had to pull myself together, because Komaeda was (as I had mentioned a  _million_ times beforehand) a fucking murderer, basically. It doesn't matter if it wasn't by his hand: he was instrumental in Togami's and Hanamura's death, and the fact that his sick, twisted nature got me all hot and bothered was  _fucking disgusting_ , and I hated myself for it. 

So, when I had finally recovered again (having regulated my breathing, and having brought myself back down to earth) I told myself, with a renewed resolve, that I wouldn't think about it ever again; that I wouldn't fantasise about fucking Komaeda Nagito - or dream about his lips, or his hair, or his eyes, or anything at _all_ about his body. No. _Fuck no_. It was wrong and it was twisted and I should fucking hate him for it, just like everyone else. And that's what I told myself, as I stepped out of the Hotel Restaurant and out onto the balcony, with the staircase that led downstairs: I told myself that I'd deliver him the food, that I'd spit in his face, and I'd  hate him - I'd hate him just like everyone else, and I'd feel disgust at his presence, at his existence, because he was a fucking nightmare.

But of course... That resolve melted away when I finally got there.

 

 

 


	2. Debilitating Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hinata-kun," his voice was too tender, too soft, "do you like that? Do you like it when I hurt you like that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and onto the actual fucking fucking ohoh my pals. one or two lines of Hinata's thought, and all the dialogue up until the bit where ko's like "lmao my hands are tied up i cant eat???" is taken straight from official english translation of the game. the rest of it??? not so much dpfgjxdfg. ayy.
> 
> this hasn't been checked (IM SO TIRED?) so if there's any awkward phrasing or typos i apologise!!! i apologise DEEPLY.

_So... Nagito's tied up at the back._  

Faced with the double doors, suddenly I regretted my decision. Surely, I could have pulled a Koizumi and forced this upon someone else, right? Like, starving him might count as a murder: that might be enough to convince someone else - no matter how much they hated Ko - to do the dirty work. Shit, I was an idiot. Why didn't I think of that  _earlier_? Now, however, it was too late: Monomi had seen me come in, and so had Koizumi and Saionji - what excuse would I have? Tray in hands, I was swallowing, mouth dry.

 _Why am I so nervous_...?

Logically, there was no reason to be nervous: this was fine. He was tied up, and he couldn't actually _do_ anything. I was going to go in there, and I was going to set the food down, and I wasn't going to think about Komaeda and nor was I going to think about how I had been touching myself over him the other night. Biting my lips, I balanced the tray single-handedly, as I reached for the door: my clammy hands, grasping at the handle. I was breathing hard again. Shit. Attempting to calm down, I pushed it forward, peeking inside and-

A big smile. Plastered on his face. However, unlike from when we first met, it echoed with the ghost of the person from the trial - the one who I was unfamiliar with, and the one that had gotten me so dangerously hot and bothered.

" _Hajime_...?" There was evidence of amusement in his voice. Shit. Fucking  _shit._ Without realising it, I was holding my breath. "Ah, could it be...? Did you take time out of your busy day to bring some food to little old me?" _I couldn't answer_. Voice caught in my throat, I was unable to respond, and I simply gaped at him, my mouth unhinging - my unsaid words hanging in the air. Regardless, he didn't seem to take any notice, and he continued anyway, exclaiming, "I'm so happy! As you can see, I can't exactly greet you with my full hospitality... But feel free to relax."

There was this new heaviness to his voice: a dark purr, that lilted each of his words, tonguing the edges of every syllable. But no. Fucking hell no. I couldn't - I couldn't think about that. Walking ahead, I painted a hostile expression, clenching the tray handles in a pathetic attempt to ground myself - to make sure that my hands didn't shake any more, and to appear like I actually had my  _shit_ together. However, my legs felt like jelly - his voice alone was enough to make me weak in the knees. Setting the tray down by his head, I balled my hands into fists, now, trying to steady myself, and continuing to glower down at his tied-up, vulnerable figure.

 _He's a murderer,_ I told myself,  _he killed your friends._  

 "Huh, what happened?" The grin was still plastered on his features, twisting his lips: he was mocking me. "Your face looks kind of scary."

 "I- I didn't come here to talk to you..." I piped up at long last: my voice croaking slightly from misuse, but I ignored it, ploughing on. All I had to do was glare. That's all. All I had to was exercise the little resentment I had for this guy, and then I could leave, and no one would ever have to know about my dirty little secret. "I just came to bring you some food. So come on - eat it."

" _Huh_?" Feigning fake alarm, his eyes widened, staring at me. And - _holy shit -_ I wish I still had the tray to hit him with it or something, because what came next took me completely off guard. "You're not going to feed me?"

My facade dissolved in a sentence. Breaths shaky, I stared, agape - because  _what the fuck was that_? Words spilled out my mouth -" _wh-what do you mean?_ " - in a stumbling, stuttering mess. Was he just _fucking_ with me? Probably. He was probably just trying to creep me out. And yet, was it any  _better_ if he  _was_ fucking with me? Because, shit, thinking about him screwing with me, teasing me, and playing with me set my thoughts into overdrive, a whole new world of possibilities open at that prospect, and -  _I was really messed up, wasn't I?_ Biting down on my lip, I urged myself to calm down, because surely every single emotion was playing on my unfortunately honest face.

"Well, I can't eat it on my own," he answered for me, coolly, face relaxing. "You know, since my hands are all tied up."

 _Right._ Of course. That was it: a simple, normal explanation. Yes, Komaeda was fucking fucked up - but he wasn't that fucked up. Surely, he was only messing with me, trying to catch me off guard and tease me, like the son-of-a-bitch he is.  And, _surely,_ he would _never_ -

"But," cutting off my train of thought, he looked me dead in the eye; his eyes were glinting - that unbelievable swirl of dark and light returning to his eyes, and I couldn't  _fucking look away_ \- as a smirk twitched at his lips. Slowly, he edged forwards, shuffling towards me, and I didn't even realise it this time, but I was holding my breath - wondering what the  _fuck_ he was doing right now. "Of course..." his voice was drawling - peppered with long, slow pauses, "if you wanted, I could tie you up instead and feed it to you-"  _and shit, when did his voice get that low, and breathy, "-_ Hajime."  
  
"What- _what_ ," now, I just didn't understand. Was he still teasing me?  _Was this a fucking joke_? Surely, he was just repeating the same bullshit that he just did a few seconds ago, purposefully trying to wind me up. But fuck. Regardless, it was working. My attention was drawn to the ropes he'd mentioned: evidence of bruises peeped out from beneath his sleeve, where the bonds had been tightened around his skin, and now  _I_ could almost feel them, too, as I imagined him wrapping the rope around my wrists, and I could  _feel him_ _tightening_ them, and  _tightening_ them until my hypothetical circulation was cut off and I could feel myself almost screaming in agony and pleasure and-

_Jesus fucking christ._

Snapping out of it, I realised he was still staring at me. Smirking. "You know," he said, voice soft, "I may be human garbage, but I'm not entirely ignorant, Hajime-" and I knew what was coming, because  _he knew, didn't he,_ because Komaeda, despite everything, was an observant, intuitive little bastard, "-and I can  _see_ it. You're transparent. Forgive me, but that isn't an insult: it's beautiful, you know? Your emotion shines in your eyes - and along with it, your hope and your despair.

"The way you look at me," he continued on, edging closer with each passing second, "both now, and during the trial. You want me, don't you Hinata-kun? You want my filthy, disgusting body to do with as you please. Don't try to deny it - because you know what? At first, I was skeptical during the trial: at first, I didn't quite believe what I was seeing in those telltale eyes of yours, and you know what-"  _and he was whispering, quickly, words rapid and frantic,_ "-I followed you to your cottage afterwards. Because you?  _Why would you be attracted to me_? It seemed preposterous - entirely illogical, defying all reason. And yet..." Somehow, he was smirking even more; somehow, I felt myself wanting to  _fuck him even more_. "There you were. I saw through your window, and heard you - albeit, barely, because you were holding your tongue - touching yourself, whispering my name with ragged breaths in the darkness, and eventually releasing, all just at the thought of me.

"Your taste is highly questionable," he said finally, after a moment of pause, "but you know? I would let you. Well, that's a lie -  _I would welcome you_ to fuck me, because it would be an honour, Hajime, to let someone so perfect, so wonderful as you to ravish my body. And I know you want to - I can see it in your eyes, and even more so in your tight pants - and I would love for you to fuck me, to-"  
  
" _No_."

Despite the fact I had so abruptly cut him off, I was whimpering. _What was I saying_? Why was I responding to this guy and giving in? Confused, too, he stared up at me, his smirk dissipating for a much more, curious gaze. Hell. Even now, when he wasn't smouldering, he looked cute as hell. Maybe even before all of this crap, back when I first met him, I had realised that, but never truly admitted it. 

Breathing deeply, I found myself bending down, lowering myself to his height - and then, lower, still, practically kneeling before him. My hands were shaking; my heart was racing; and I was going to his bonds, loosening them, untying them, my eyes unable to meet his in case they were overwhelmed once more. "No," I repeated, attempting to sound much more certain and confident, but my voice was nothing but a mumble, "no. I don't - I don't want to _fuck_ you," I whispered, quietly, "I want you... To fuck  _me._ "

Another silence.

The ropes were gone, now; Komaeda was freed from his restraints. My breaths were still shaky. Now I was scared. Very scared. Not only with how he may respond, but because he could do _anything_ right now - he could kill me, if he wanted to, just like what he tried to do with Togami. Maybe he would reveal another knife from another under table, and hold it to my throat; maybe (and hopefully) he'd go for something less clean, and he'd try to strangle me with his own bonds -  watch the light die from my eyes, and I would relish in the long, drawn out sensation of pain. Fuck. My mouth was watering again; my lips were ready, slightly open and inviting. 

And then they were engulfed by him. Rough and forceful, his mouth was smashing against mine - and it  _hurt,_ fuck, it fucking hurt, and I was crying out, but moaning too, a symphony of sinful lust and pain, and part of me wished I could speak, because I wanted to beg - and because I wanted to _demand_  - that he kissed me harder and harder still. But no: I couldn't even breathe, let alone speak - _especially_  now, because he was jamming his tongue down my mouth - and I was _choking_ on him, coughing and spluttering between the harsh, brutal kisses he kept exercising, and  _shit,_ this was more than I could have imagined and more than I could have possibly  _dreamed for,_ and-

Then it was gone. We were both gasping for breath, staring into each other's eyes. As dark and as swirling as ever, they still drew me in, just as they had done so beforehand. Shit. This was wrong. _This was so fucking wrong_. But thinking about that solely served to make me want him more: I wanted him to touch me properly, and I wanted him to be rough with me, and I wanted him to scare me all over again and for him to hurt me and and to bruise me, in ways that would make the others concerned and confused, and in ways that would make me scream out all over again.

"Hinata-kun," his voice was too tender, too soft, "do you like that? Do you like it when I hurt you like that?" 

I was nodding. Nodding _very_ enthusiastically at that. "The- the ropes," I stuttered, hands grasping at the forgotten restraints, before thrusting them into his hands. "Komaeda.... I mean,  _N-n_ _agito..._ Please-" my voice was dropping to a whisper, my eyes almost watering; I couldn't believe that I was actually about to say something so humiliating -  _so degrading_ - aloud, to _him_ of all people, "-please tie me up. Don't hold back. I want... I want you to hurt me more, I want-"

His finger was at my lips, shushing me; and then, without a moment of hesitation, he was pushing it into my mouth, with a smirk, his sharp nail digging into the inner walls of my mouth, causing me to wheeze, hands reaching for his instinctively - but he batted mine away, grabbing my wrists instead. Fuck. Tighter, tighter, tighter - he _squeezed_ my wrist, now, a smirk pulling away at his features. "Like this?" he hissed, and I couldn't fucking breathe, because he was pulling his hand out of my mouth, now, and he was readying the ropes.

Taking both of my hands, he pinned my arms against the table behind me, above my head; then, with the rope, he tied them to the table leg - so tight I cried out, water welling up in my eyes. I didn't expect that - not at all.  "Don't try and intervene, then, Hinata-kun," he whispered, voice dangerous and threatening. Part of me wanted to try to, just to see what he would do - just to see if he would _punish me_ \- but my hands were imprisoned by rope and instead I was totally and utterly vulnerable to him and his mouth, which was sucking at my neck, his teeth raking up and down my skin leaving pink trails in his wake.

Watering, my own mouth lusted for his. I wanted to feel his presence against my tongue and my teeth, but I couldn't: I was totally incapacitated, at his complete and utter mercy. The mere thought made me shiver and shake against him, and I could hear the bastard chuckling, biting down on my neck harder, his teeth sinking deeper - and I couldn't see properly, not only due to the angle, but because my eyes were blurred with tears, but I figured he was drawing blood at this point, it hurt so bad, and yet it was as if my body was filling with ecstasy rather than pain. Instead of shying from his touch, desperately I tried to push against him, attempting to force myself against his teeth. 

Tongue wandering, he began to venture further and further down my neck, until he got to my collar. "Ah," he smirked, looking up at me from beneath his heavily lidded eyes, "this won't do, now, will it?"

Tantalisingly slowly, he began to unbutton my shirt; his fingers lingered after each one, his lips moving to kiss each inch of skin as he began to expose more and more of my naked torso. It was fucking torture, and he knew it. Grunts escaped my mouth periodically, but each time I attempted to open my mouth and urge him to go faster, he'd stop and his lips would tickle my skin teasingly, refusing to pleasure me fully and properly like I so desired, until he was sure I wasn't going to object. When he'd finally gotten to the bottom of my shirt, his lips were inches from the waistband of my tightening pants. There, he paused, as if considering something; a chuckle escaped his lips. 

_What was he going to-_

Oh _shit._

Hot pain ran through my body; Nagito was pressing his palm, hard and unforgivingly into my groin. Already, it had been straining against my tight trousers and underwear - but this was a whole new level of shit. Unable to control myself, cries and gasps escaped my lips, but his other hand quickly wrapped around my mouth, silencing me, refusing to let me make too much noise; quite like before, his fingers pushed into my mouth, scraping at my inner gums and drawing more and more of my blood. Flailing, my legs were kicking frantically as he pressed in deeper, and deeper, shifting almost all of his weight into pressing down on my crotch, and I was seeing stars - bright, white stars - and they were flashing as if I had my own firework display going on behind my eyelids, which had closed inevitably due to the sheer intensity of the pain. 

Distantly, I could hear his voice laughing, taunting me, "you like that, Hajime?" he asked with a sneer, "You're so much more of a filthy slut than I first anticipated," and I swear I was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, almost about to blackout due to overstimulation, but before he could let me, his palm was gone, and he was unzipping my trousers instead. Suddenly I could breathe again - hell, suddenly I could  _think clearly_ again, as my vision came swimming back to me, reality slowly re-materialising before my eyes. However, I could only savour a second of that, because before I knew it my lower half was cold, him having disposed of my trousers and my underwear, my hard, throbbing dick relieved of the obscene pressure my garments were inflicting upon me.

Choking on air, I squirmed, uncomfortable with my newfound nakedness; whilst I was totally fine with him sucking my dick, he was now sitting back, grinning down at my lower half, and I was beginning to feel somewhat self-conscious and embarrassed, as stupid as that was.

"So...?" I choked out, voice raw from crying out so much.

Raising his eyebrow, he glanced up at me. "Did I say you could speak, Hinata-kun?" he questioned, cocking his head at me inquisitively. Edging forward, reducing the distance between us, his fingers brushed my neck, trailing along the sins he'd committed, earlier. It hurt. Finally, his spindly digits began to rest at my tie, fingering it. Despite the fact he'd unbuttoned my shirt, leaving my body mostly bare and naked, that still remained. "You know," he murmured, softly, as he began to pull, tightening the strip of fabric. "I was going to choke you with this, but maybe it would be better if I used it to shut you up - don't you think?" The look in his eyes was like fire, scary and alive. "After all, I've barely done anything so far, and you've already cried so loud: needless to say, it would be... Awfully  _troublesome_ if anyone were to overhear you scream my undeserving name, in that raw, dirty voice of yours."

Every word that he said in that eerily sexy voice of his sent electric down my spine; breathless, I found myself nodding, as I said, "Fuck... Fuck, Komaeda yes - gag me," I almost blubbered, "fucking shut me up. And -  _and_ -" I could hardly believe what I was saying, "-and please. Don't... Don't talk about yourself like that," I said, voice low, "talk... Talk about me, instead. Talk to me like you talk to yourself, Nagito. Spit on me and call me a worthless fucking trashbag or whatever. Make me- make me fucking _cry_ , make me-"

Shutting me up, his mouth was wrapped around mine, tongue forcing its way into me once more. "Then shut the fuck up," he hissed, between wet, sloppy kisses, a repulsive mixture of our saliva drooling down my chin, "because if that's going to be the case, you don't deserve to utter a single word, you perverse sack of garbage. Do you hear me?" And now he was ripping away, depriving me of his touch, and in a white flash, his hand was coming down, striking me, smacking my face - and unlike with my crotch, this pain had the privilege of brevity, but all of it was concentrated into a singular, scream-inducing second, and I _would_ have cried out, but instead I was crying into his mouth again, because he was back, lips on mine, as his hands were busy, unravelling my tie. Another, much less painful flash later, he was gone, having pulling away from my bruised mouth, the tie ready in his hands. 

"You better hold still, or I'll leave you here for someone else to find," he muttered, as he took the fabric and wrapped it around my head, effectively gagging me.  Sitting back, he smiled, marvelling his own handiwork.  "Ah, now that's dealt with... Shall we continue, Hinata-kun?" he asked as if I could answer; I simply responded with pleading eyes, which made him smirk, as he ducked down, his white head of hair bobbing out of my sight. 

Closing my eyes, I elicited a moan as I felt his tongue caressing my length. Once again, he returned to the tormentingly slow pace as beforehand, his deliberate motions gradual and slow. Every motion erupted goosebumps on my skin, as he slowly and surely ran stripes of saliva up and down my dick, in a way that made me bite down on my tie and suppress an embarrassingly loud moan. Fucking hell. Attempting to egg him on to go faster, I squirmed, thrusting my hips forwards for him, wishing he would just take it in his mouth already, because I was sick of the foreplay and I wanted more of him - I wanted him to swallow me _whole_ \- and that's all I could think about, as my nails dug into the palms of my hands.

"So impatient," he tittered, as his hands began stroking, now, gliding down my dick and rubbing in the remnants of his spit into my skin, "what makes you think that filth like you  _deserves_ any kind of release, hm? What gives you  _the right_ -" and he was smacking me again, causing me to yelp and hiss through my restraints, and I wished I could  _beg for more_ , for him to strike me and to spank me and to bite me and make me bleed into his mouth, so I could feel the pain - so I could feel  _fucking alive again_ _,_  "-to even  _consider_ that you're worth any of that, Hinata-kun? You're scum. Fucking _**scum**._ " 

And with that, he dropped my dick unceremoniously, choosing to grab one of my legs instead. Raising it, he balanced it on his shoulder. My arse was exposed to him; I could only guess what he was going to do next. "And to think-" he spat, the anger and hatred seething in his words, his unbridled passion only broken as he began to suck on his fingers during pauses, "- that you would even  _dare_ -" slick with saliva, now, his fingers  were going  _down there,_ and I found myself holding my breath for the millionth fucking time, waiting for him to pleasure me, "-to try and pleasure yourself without my permission, is fucking _repulsive_ -!" 

 _And there it was._ A shriek reverberated in my throat, trapped by my gag, as he forced his way into my tight, unwilling hole. Fuck,  _fuck, fuck._ Struggling, I squirmed about, my breaths becoming laboured and desperate, as he began stretching me - fingers, moving around the inside clenched ass, but despite the fact that I was almost thrashing around in agony, he refused to stop, instead erratically forcing them in deeper, and then withdrawing them, and then pushing them even  _deeper yet_ in a rhythmless, fucked up pattern.

Everything felt like it was burning - an immense, fiery pain was washing over my body, cleansing me, and sending me into a manic overdrive. I could barely comprehend what was going on, but somewhere along the line, I realised I was crying - wet tears streaming down my face, birthed out of anguish. And yet? Despite everything - despite how much it hurt, and how much my body was screaming at me to stop this madness - I could still feel this undeniable, primal thirst lusting within me, begging and screaming for more and more pain, because  _holy fucking shit,_ everything felt like it was on fire, and I was loving it, I was wallowing in true euphoria.

Soon he began scissoring me, fingers spreading wide and  I was gasping back more tears, now,  feeling myself stretching wider and wider for him. I wanted to cry his name out; I wanted to yell at him to give me more. Somewhere along the line, his lips had found my neck again as he fingered me, biting down on whatever fresh skin he could still salvage. My name was on his lips, a gentle flutter of " _Hajime_ " escaping every so often, and it made me cry harder, and harder, arms tugging wildly at the restraints, because I wanted to ravish his body, too, and rake my nails down his back - never mind the delayed gratification, I  _wanted him now,_ and I wanted him so badly.

His kisses began to slow down; as did his fingering. Soon, he was working his way up my neck again, lips finding my face instead. Darting out, his tongue swiped away my tears, as I heard a zipper and the ruffle of trousers being removed. Exhausted, I allowed myself to relax for a moment, as he kissed and licked away, my own mouth watering as I heard him whispering to himself, rambling some nonsensical garbage about  _fucking hope_ , that I genuinely didn't care for. Instead, I listened intently, waiting for him as his murmurs diffused, grunts instead eliciting from his pale lips, as he pleasured himself - or at least, I assumed he did, for my eyes were still closed.

The moment, however, was short-lived; his hands (which were now somehow wet with his own saliva, which I don't remember him even doing) having finished entertaining his own length, were cupping my face, and he was easing himself forwards, still sustaining the position (of my leg on his shoulder) that he'd established beforehand.

I felt it first: him, gradually easing himself inside of me. Unlike with his fingers, he was a lot gentler and slower, now, reverting back to the teasing, taunting manner from earlier. It made me shudder, with how slow it was: the lack of speed served to amplify every sensation, forcing me to focus on everything that was happening, rather than lose myself in the rhythmatic pain that I would have otherwise succumbed to. My eyes were starting to water again; I found myself instinctively clenching, gripping on to my bonds for dear life, as he slowly,  _slowly_  forced himself into me, dragging it out for as long as fucking possible, his own hisses and whines barely registering in my mind.

"Shit," I heard him swear quietly, and it was so fucking weird to hear him drop an expletive when he _wasn't_ insulting someone, and merely exclaiming it out of sheer simulation. "For someone so disgraceful, you feel so fucking wonderful around me, Hajime," he muttered, right into my ear, his breath hot and heavy, because - fuck, he was so close to me, and it felt like we were at one with one another, like one big, pulsating entity. Every breath he took I could feel; every time he shuddered and squirmed I could sense it - and surely, such a connection went both ways. For a brief moment, when he was finally in as far as he could go, we both paused, him holding me, as tears (for everything still burnt like fucking hell) continued to roll down my wet cheeks.

Then it started again.

Gently at first, he began to rock his hips: that in itself was enough to make me go haywire again, to tease moans out of my throat. However his pace soon began to liven: faster and faster, he began to adopt a similar technique with his fingers - except this time, it was with his full fucking length. Clearly beforehand I was naive; clearly I was stupid to ever think that such a sensation was so overwhelming. Long past the point of crying, I found myself screaming, the sound somewhat suffocated by my gag, yet even that didn't seem the quell the horrendous volumes that I was reaching - because every single fucking cell in my body was enslaved, screaming at my brain to put a  _fucking end to this torture_ , and there was nothing quiet about it. 

Pain. Terrifyingly, debilitating pain was taking over my body. Darkening, the edges of my vision were thawing away once more, and for the second time I knew I was bordering on the verge of collapse. Too much. _Too fucking much_. I could hardly breath, oxygen refusing to pass through my system, as every time he pounded against me it was shaken from my chest, or it was spent on me crying out tears of agony.

And I  _hated_  it. I _hated myself._ Though I was being totally and truly overwhelmed, I was still so disturbingly hard, still so outrageously turned on, dick simply  _enthralled_ with the traumatising pain that ripped through body. Regardless of how much I screamed, I still wanted more, and my hands were twitching, longing to pleasure myself and to help myself release, because I could feel it - I could feel how fucking close I was to cumming all over Komaeda's front, the familiar sensation growing in my stomach, and  I had to sooner or later, because the feeling was growing unbearable, my balls genuinely starting to ache with lack of attention. Crying harder, I forced myself against Komaeda once more, heels digging into the slits in the wooden floor, bracing myself for-

 _I couldn't_.

A new presence had wrapped itself around my dick. Komaeda's hand was squeezing the base of my cock, refusing to let me ejaculate. "Aa- ah,  _not before me, Hinata-kun_ ," he hissed, tightening his grip, inducing  _even more_ pain to build within me, "remember? You- you're-" his words were deformed, buckling as he breathed hard and fast; deliciously hot pleasure resonated in his voice, rendering his words barely intelligible, "-fuc..king...  _Garbage._ You don't deserve- t-to do t-hat. Not-ahh-" another sharp intake of breath, simultaneous with one of my own, as he hit a particular sweet spot, "-b-before  _me._ Okay?"

Only now (when we were nearly at a climax) was he desperately stripping himself of his white shirt, throwing it away to the side. Cries were still vibrating in my mouth, but I welcomed his bare, white flesh as he leant in, tenderly nuzzling against me as he fucked me senseless. I craved his touch so badly: his skin was perfectly white and perfectly firm - everything that I dreamt of when I first touched myself alone in my room that night. However, it had been so much different back then: everything was clouded with shame and guilt, and I had stroked myself desperately, too preoccupied with self-loathing to truly satisfy myself. Now, however? Fucking hell -  _this was real, and this was happening,_ and I swore I was going to lose myself, I was going to pass out and collapse if I didn't release sooner or later, and-

Warmth suddenly spread within me: Ko was yelling out my name, letting go of my own length, as he did so, allowing me to finally scream out for one last time, as I, too, came hard, and all over Ko's bare thighs.

Both of us were panting crazily. Nagito was staring at me, a considerable length away now from before. Regardless, his eyes were still latched onto mine, despite how blurry my vision was. Maintaining his gaze, he smeared his hands in the filth on his legs, and licked them clean - clearly grimacing at the bitter, salty taste, but swallowing anyway, because he was an asshole, and because he loved to _fuck with me._ Had I the energy, I would have responded to him in a similar way as before (meaning I would have gotten hard again, basically) but now I was totally spent, totally fucked, and the pain I had appreciated so deeply beforehand was starting to just sting like an annoyance, rather than with pleasure.  

"Well... Hinata-kun," he said, softly at long last, as he crawled forward. He was stark naked now, and the close proximity felt so intimate, and I almost felt myself blushing - which was ridiculous, because he literally just fucked me in the ass. Gently, however, he began to untie the ropes, allowing my arms to fall to my sides. All feeling seemed to be lost in my hands and my wrists, an uncomfortable ache spreading down the entire length; I wanted to raise my hands - to touch Nagito's face affectionately, and to brush the hair from his eyes, which had been displaced during the mayhem. But I couldn't. It hurt so bad.

Proceeding to remove the tie from my mouth, he dropped it by our side. Silence had fallen once again: it felt somewhat awkward (or at least, to me it did) because I wasn't entirely sure what I was supposed to say to him, or if I was supposed to say anything to him, or if I should even  _acknowledge_ what we just did, or-

"We should do that again some time," he finished off his forgotten sentence, dismissing my influx of thoughts.

My voice was weak; I couldn't help but hesitate and whimper.

"Uh... Y-yeah. Sure. I guess."

As uncertain as I surely sounded, I knew for definite that that's exactly what I wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BUT YEAH, the scene where ko is tied up has always been a fave of mine. like it was briefly my desktop wallpaper at some point, and i remember SCREAMING when i first saw it. like not even lowkey screaming ghhh. and yknow i was like "well that might be fun to write about!!" ((and yes, i chose to mention this @ the bottom of the page so y'all can't fucking kinkshame my a$$ bc you read this filth too. (: ))
> 
> anyway i was also gonna write some anal into ko-gurt. i was gonna probably use the yoghurt as lube. but then i was like "you know what that's too far" and i didn't, and, like, i wasn't sure if i could pull off anal either. 
> 
> but anyway i *hope* someone out there liked this tho!!! i know i enjoyed writing it. if anyone has any suggestions on short things that i can write in the future y'all can hmu at http://egggggggggggggggggggggggggggggs.tumblr.com/ask if u rlly want??? cant guarantee i will (esp if it's anything dubcon, sorry) but i'm open to ideas


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